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User blog:Not-eris/Next DanganRonpa Part 4: Shots Fired
hello! i should probably throw a disclaimer in front of this puppy. its gonna be graphic. very graphic. im not gonna hold back with the violence now that i dont have to worry about samb rules, but of course itll be within reason. ill keep hote sexe out of it (theyre kids after all!) and ill try not to swear too much in it, but this is danganronpa. theres gonna be bloodshed, and lots of it, so uhhhhhh of course thatll only be worsened by the fact im considering throwing art into the mix. since i can now include that stuff, ill probably do drawings of the crime scenes and evicences and such, and perhaps some important scenes, kinda the stuff theyd do cgs for in the canon games. so yeah. consider yallselves warned. PROLOGUE - TRAPPED IN A SHATTERED REALITY One Sneakers tap-tap-tapped their way up large steps of marble. The boy’s heart sped up in its place, though he couldn’t tell whether it was nerves or excitement. This school was such a high calibre that, even with no more than mere rumors of him being scouted, he and his family had become somewhat of celebrities. He was somewhat familiar with fame beforehand, of course if you count local news as fame, but compared to his new classmates, that would be less than nothing. Ian’s mind was reduced to more of a jumbled mess of feeling with each step towards the large doors. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Hope’s Peak. The opportunity was that of a lifetime, even if he felt it was for the wrong thing, but there were impossibly high expectations set up, infinite hurdles of judgement that he doubted his ability to clear. His talent wasn’t even what he’d hoped to be recognized by the world for, even in some far-off parallel universe where he wanted to be recognized by the world in the first place. With a sigh, Ian pushed both hands against the double doors that now towered over him. His head up, fuschia eyes scanning the grand entrance hall, he entered the school. By now, his brain had ceased coherent thought in favor of a cloud of confusion. IAN ESTCOTT ULTIMATE CHEMIST Ian had been informed beforehand to enter the gym upon arrival. A map was gripped in his hands, and he glanced at it routinely as he headed for the place. He didn’t know if he could get any more conflicted, and that very moment was the moment the impossible happened, right when he pushed open the doors to the gymnasium. “There’s another one?” “Are you going to say that every time? Are you seriously still surprised, Emilia?” “The school day started ten minutes ago. She has every right to be surprised, though the roster does mention 16 students.” Once Ian had stepped into the large room, he was met with a barrage of comments and quirky characters. Sixteen, including him, to be exact. His eyes darted between the people as they spoke. At least he wouldn’t have to be alone through this. “Uh,” he stuttered out, “hello, I guess? I take it I’m in the right place.” “Yepperino!” Seemingly out of nowhere, the first person to speak had appeared next to him. Her face was red, and she seemed a bit winded, but overall seemed fine. “Welcome to Hope’s Peak! I’m Emilia Garelli.” As she introduced herself, a wide grin was spread across your face. “Ultimate Artist, if you were wondering, but I mostly do painting, if you’re one of those people who needs your details.” EMILIA GARELLI ULTIMATE ARTIST “Oh, hi, Emilia,” Ian chirped. At least he was met by one of the more… friendly members of the group, judging from appearances, but far from the most unique. She shared that category with much everyone else, even if she was basically a big assault on the eyes with the sheer amount of color she wore, with her bold-colored green hair and orange eyes. “I’m, uh-” “Ian Estcott?” another voice pondered. A small tablet was held in the boy’s hand. Another person drew a sharp breath somewhere, but Ian didn’t pay much mind to that as much as the situation at hand. “How did you-” “You’re the only name and portrait not accounted for in here, until now,” the guy interrupted. “Check your pockets.” Ian followed suit, shoving his hands into the pockets of his lab coat and then those of his jeans. His search was met with a tablet similar to the one in this guy’s hand, though he quickly shrugged it off after a quick look. “Okay…?” What was the use of some fancy badget? “My name’s Emery Lewis,” he introduced himself, stepping forward. His voice was a bit soft, not helped by the large striped scarf that muffled his words. A hand was held stiff before him, offering a handshake. With a second of hesitation, Ian happily reciprocated. “Ultimate Analyst.” EMERY LEWIS ULTIMATE ANALYST Emery hadn’t looked like you’d expect an analyst to look, not the clean and proper that had come to be associated with such intelligence-based talents, though he was in that same boat. “Nice meeting you, Ian,” he added on, after a second or pause, as if he’d forgotten to say that last bit. “Yep! Nice meeting you too!” Though the kid seemed a bit… off, Ian cheerfully greeted him all the same. “I take it the rest of you all have introduced yourselves amongst each other? Seeing as I’m late and all.” “Yes, yes. Why were… you late, by the way?” Ian turned to face his newfound interrogator. She was staring at him, a blank, dead look on her face, but her tone gradually grew louder and more commanding, despite the simple question. His eyes fell on the girl, uniform-clad, pointing a finger at him. The eyes that stared at him, mismatched between amber and grey, both wrought of despair, were trying to grow imposing as if they wanted to belong to a teacher and not another student. “I’m sorry,” he started, “I think I got lost along the way or something.” He’d only just now showed up at the school, let alone the gym, and last he checked he was perfectly on time. “Don’t let it happen again,” she said. “I won’t tolerate excuses… I-Ian. Call me Corah, by the way,” she said, her ever-moving hands switching to a quick salute before falling again. “Ultimate Drum Major, quite a feat if I say so myself.” CORAH CROWN ULTIMATE DRUM MAJOR “Well, way to toot your own horn,” Emilia joked. Another voice chuckled out, though its owner made sure he piped down quickly. “Sorry,” he excused himself. “Didn’t expect to be that loud.” “You’re fine, you’re fine! Don’t worry about it,” the artist reassured. The hoodie-clad and hunched boy then looked around to see Ian, making sure to shove a few locks of overgrown hair away from stormy eyes, even though it wasn’t really in the way. “Oh, this’s what the fuss is about?” He paused for a second and blinked once or twice, trying to shed the pinched face for a more light and friendly one. “I’m, uh, Alexander McBride,” he introduced himself. “If it’s convenient, call me AJ, but...” He trailed right off, pausing for another second or two. “I’m the Ultimate Gymnast, in case you wanted to know, but if you didn’t…” He trailed off again. ALEXANDER MCBRIDE ULTIMATE GYMNAST “No, no, you’re good.” Ian waved his hands in the air before him, reassuring the kid, but it didn’t seem to do much. “He’s been like this the entire time we’ve been in here,” Emery explained. “He’ll probably ease up at some point, from what I can tell.” “It’s all case-by-case, Emery,” yet another voice spoke up. “There’s no real way to ‘predict’ these kinds of behaviors so early on in seeing someone.” “I’m entirely going off of trends I’ve seen in other people,” Emery said, quieter this time. “You’re the one who knows this stuff, though, so I’ll take your word.” “Yes, thank you,” she said, putting her hands together. “Reina Belmonte, Ultimate Psychiatrist, it’ll be a pleasure working with you,” she greeted to Ian, a friendly and professional smile plastered on her face. REINA BELMONTE ULTIMATE PSYCHIATRIST Friendly and professional, that was the best way to describe her smile and everything about her. With her neat hair and the suit she wore, she seemed more like a shrunken-down teacher than a classmate of his. Still, though, he didn’t put too much mind to it; all of these people were weird. “It’ll be nice going here with you, too, I guess,” Ian said. Was that how he should respond to that? “Yes, yes,” she said. “You know you’re creeping everyone out with that smile, right?” This new voice was a mere mutter from behind the few who had gathered around the newcomer thus far, but Ian picked it up. “I dunno if you’ve ever seen someone play innocent over a murder spree before, but that’s the type of smile you’ll get out of them.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, toning down the smile to a more neutral face. “Don’t let me do that again, if that’s the case.” “You don’t need to be so…” he spoke up again. “We’re your classmates, not your clients.” “Please, don’t let it happen again, Nixe.” He said nothing after that. “Um…” Ian debated whether or not to talk to this Nixe person. He clearly wanted to be left alone, but it’d be nice to at least get names figured out right off the bat. “Hello… Nixe, is it?” “Yes.” He looked up, with a completely blank and distant expression behind long white hair. “I’m Ian Estcott, nice meeting you…” “Nixe Mistry. Ultimate Cultist.” NIXE MISTRY ULTIMATE CULTIST Nixe spoke in a voice where you’d expect something along the lines of “don’t bother talking to me” or “that’s all you need to know” to follow, but that space after his words was empty. He simply turned back to the notebook in his lap, and Ian didn’t really want to bother seeing what he was filling the page with. “None of us are gonna be talking to him anytime soon, from the looks of it. He seems to be completely content with that, too, from the looks of it.” Reina nodded in agreement with Emery. “I think we should still give him a chance,” a voice piped up. The owner, or at least who Ian presumed to be the owner, tried moving closer to the boy in her wheelchair. “Excuse me!” she warned, and Corah and another person stepped aside for her. “He seems friendly enough, probably just a little shy, y’know?” “Shiori, that’s not how things work.” Corah’s hands waved around a bit more as she explained. “He doesn’t want to talk to us, he’s made that clear.” “It’s still worth a shot, isn’t it?” Her black eyes shifted over to Ian. “Hello, by the way,” she chirped out. He couldn’t help but question why the girl was wheelchair-bound, though he said nothing aloud. “You’re Ian, if I remember right?” “Yeah, you?” “Shiori Sakamoto,” she said. “Ultimate Florist.” She moved a bit closer still as she spoke, wheeling herself to the point where they could comfortably have a conversation, and gave a smile to the boy. SHIORI SAKAMOTO ULTIMATE FLORIST Well, she definitely reflected enough light to keep her plants alive. Clad in bright pastels of all different hues, with a multicolored ponytail peeking behind her head, and a smile that could probably blind someone had it not been for the softness of her expression. “Um, nice to meet you!” she added on. “Yeah, yeah!” The group fell a bit quiet for a moment, the same sort of quiet that was present when Ian first entered the room. Another girl looked up at the group from the fringes. “C’mon, why’re you all so quiet?!” She spoke loud and imposing, her entire demeanor giving off that impression in fact. “Speak up! Be social!” “You’re one to talk,” yet another person, a boy this time, added. “Well, I was waiting until the others quieted down so I wouldn’t talk over anyone! Is that a problem?” “Yet you complained about us being quiet the second we stopped talking,” Emery said. “Well, have at it, then!” Corah said. “Fine, fine,” she said, stalking up a few steps. “The name’s Gwendolyn. Gwen. Gwen Nikkos. Ultimate Basketball Star. Call me what you will.” She flashed a smile at Ian, freckles getting shown off as her proud, turquoise eyes stared the kid down. GWENDOLYN NIKKOS ULTIMATE BASKETBALL STAR “Okay, Gwen…!” He was a bit taken aback by how imposing Gwen was, but he could go along with it. “I’m-” “Ian,” she finished. “I have ears, y’know!” At that, she moved a hand, pointing at the side of her head. Sure enough, the spot where her finger pointed to contained an ear. “Now, seeing as none of the others are willing to make their presence known…” “We were just waiting until we had something worth saying,” the aforementioned mystery voice said. Ian followed the voice to find its owner, fairly large and threatening, clad in a military uniform. Alongside him, a girl small compared to him, matching in attire. She nodded along to his words. “We wouldn’t want to get in the way without anything to contribute,” his companion said. “Well, now you do have something to say!” Corah gestured widely to the rest of the group. “Alright, alright, then. I am Douglas Gormley, the Ultimate Sniper. Call me Doug, please.” He held out a stuff hand to Ian, who feebly accepted the handshake, only to realize the sheer strength of this guy wasn’t just for show. The smaller kid yelped quietly, feeling as if his arm was getting ripped off. DOUGLAS GORMLEY ULTIMATE SNIPER “The old-fashioned one here’s Nebur. Guns are too much for her, I guess.” He ruffled the mess of black curls on her head as he spoke, only to get an elbow to his forearm by Nebur. “Yes, I’m Nebur Neva, the Ultimate Archer. It’s no lack of skill, though; I’m just one for the classics.” She closed her eyes, crossing her arms, as she argued with her… friend? Were they friends? NEBUR NEVA ULTIMATE ARCHER “Why a bow, though?” another person piped up. “Don’t you have any taste?” Ian followed the source and tracked it down to another girl, long and spindly, with the only color to her being a pair of highlighter-yellow eyes that stared at Nebur as if she had three heads. “Yes, that is the entire reason,” Nebur said. “It’d beat your clunky old swords any day.” “Excuse me?!” The black-and-white-clad girl started to stalk her way up to Nebur. “I’d heard this place has a dojo? Would you like to take this there?!” “I would at least like to give you a fighting chance,” Nebur said. “Besides, you’re not even a fighter! Just a fanatic, from the looks of your Ultimate.” Ian raised an eyebrow at this, curious as to what her Ultimate really was. “Oh?” The neon eyes switched over to Ian now. “Ultimate Mathematician,” she explained, smiling as a sort of hello. “I’m Jessica Aubrette, by the way. Call me Jess.” JESSICA AUBRETTE ULTIMATE MATHEMATICIAN If she’s a math person… why’s she so passionate about swords? Ian couldn’t really blame her, the stuff was cool, but it seemed to be pretty intense for a side interest, especially one for an Ultimate. He shrugged it off; more power to her. “I’m a swordfighter!” Jessica raised a fist into the air as she loudly declared her correction of Nebur. “I’ll prove it to ya, soon as we get the gist of this place!” “You’re on,” Nebur said, even raising her voice some herself. “I’ll make sure to keep my arrows away from your vital organs.” “And I’ll keep my sword from destroying you too permanently!” A voice muttered something, a new one, but Ian didn’t register what was being said. “Please keep it down,” it said, presumably repeating itself. “Please keep it down.” Again, louder still, but now just a bit louder than a normal speaking voice. Ian turned to see a small kid in the bleachers, hunched over a guitar. “Well, maybe if you made yourself known to the rest of us all,” Gwen started, “maybe we’d listen when you ask us what to do!” “Gwen?” Reina asked. “Leave the boy alone, will you?” “Thank you,” he muttered. “I’m sorry,” Ian said to the loner as soon as the quiet came in again. “I didn’t catch your name?” “Arthur Jones,” he said, not turning from his guitar. From where Ian and the others stood, his dark hair shadowed over his face at this angle, though it wasn’t particularly long, especially in the company of some of the other boys. “Ultimate Musician,” Emery explained. “Not one of the social types, from what I can tell, but he doesn’t seem too antisocial compared to some of these others.” ARTHUR JONES ULTIMATE MUSICIAN Another girl, as it turns out, was accompanying the boy, Arthur. He stopped strumming at his guitar a few seconds after she started to talk, quietly but dramatically, flailing her hands around. Ian didn’t pay it much mind. At least, he didn’t until Arthur broke into applause. Ian’s eyebrows rose at the sight; the pair were acting like she’d just done some sort of performance. The girl looked up at him after a few seconds of the staring, her face softening from the joyful, proud look of hers. The new face was more meek and pinched, though not exactly nervous, Ian could figure. She stayed quiet and blank, hiding a bit behind a head of brown waves, looking at Ian for a few seconds before turning back to Arthur. “Excuse me?” Ian asked her, hoping for a response. She looked up at that. “Hm?” “Hi,” the boy said, flashing her a kind smile. “Um, nice meeting you!” He didn’t really know what to say to the girl, but he could wing it well enough. She nodded. “It’ll be great getting to know you, and everyone else. It’s nice to meet you too. Ian, you said your name was? My name’s...” At that point, the girl trailed off for a second. “Magdalena,” she finished. “I’m Magdalena Lange.” Ian nodded to her introduction. “What’s your talent? That thing with Arthur right now… something with that?” “Yes,” Magdalena replied. “I’m the Ultimate Actress, specifically a stage actress. I’ve performed all kinds of stages and characters, oh my, I could go on for days!” She clasped her hands together as she started to ramble and gush about her talent. “But… you probably wouldn’t...” She didn’t finish her sentence. “Ultimate Actress,” she repeated, returning to the state she was in when she first noticed Ian’s look. MAGDALENA LANGE ULTIMATE ACTRESS He didn’t know whether or not he should, or even could, continue the conversation with this girl. “That’s pretty cool, Mag,” Ian said. “Can I call you Mag?” “I usually go by Lena, if you wish, but I’m really fine with whatever. Not too picky, I’ve gotten my name shortened in every way you could possibly imagine and…” She trailed off. “I don’t mind.” “Okay, Lena?” He tested the waters to see if that would get a more confident response out of her. “I’ll call you Lena, then. Your acting sounds pretty cool, you should perform for us sometime!” A couple of the others nodded and gave ‘yeah’s and other signs of agreement. “If you want, I can. What kind of piece do you feel I should perform? I can do it right now, if you want, just give me a play and a scene and I’ll get…” A pause. “That sounds nice.” “Ooh, I can’t wait,” Emilia enthused. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing!” “Anyways, who’re you?” Ian decided to randomly turn to one of the other kids who he couldn’t put a name to, waving for his attention. He didn’t respond. In his hands was one of the tablets given out to each student. “Hello?!” Gwen called to the boy, making her way over. “We haven’t gotten a word out of him either,” Emery explained. “Kid needs to speak up sometime!” Corah joined Gwen in the mission to get a response out of him. “Excuse me, mister?” The boy didn’t respond, just kept trying to mess with the tablet. His focus didn’t waver in the slightest; it was almost as if he were convinced of a secret hidden in the depths of its’ hardware. Jessica, for one, didn’t even bother trying to get a word out of him. She just pulled her tablet from the pocket of her ripped jeans, flipping through it some. “Says here the kid’s name’s Phantom,” she said. “Phantom Regiment. Parents must have hated him.” She laughed for a second or two at her joke. Ian then pulled open his own tablet, tapping to open the student roster section. Sure enough, portraits of each kid in the room, including himself, were spread in a grid on the screen. The pharmacist tapped the one of this boy: multicolored hair in reds, blacks, and whites, gaunt and skinny build and face, staring blankly into whatever camera had gotten the photo. The screen showed the kid’s portrait, now expanded to a waist-up shot rather than just the face, and a bit of information about them. Name, talent, measurements. Straightforward enough. Though, when his eyes reached the ultimate talent, the screen went black for a split-second. When it was back, he could have sworn the words were different. PHANTOM REGIMENT ULTIMATE EQUESTRIAN So, Phantom Regiment was the mystery kid’s name. It almost felt like some type of invasion of privacy, sneaking this kid’s information off of him before he even spoke up. Though, if Phantom’s situation was anything like Ian’s own, names were nothing compared to the type of stuff the public would have gotten their hands on. Ian brushed off the tablet’s weird behavior, chalking it up to a glitch or something. With a shrug, he shoved the device back into his pocket, looking up at the others yet again and making another mental note or two of the names and faces to remember. Though he had put a name to each one of them, the others had said there were sixteen, and there were only fourteen people in the room with him. Ian made fifteen, but who was the sixteenth? Ian took another look around the room and, alas, sitting atop the highest bleachers was another kid, staring off into space. The chemist shot a look up at the boy to get his attention, but to no avail, and eventually gave up. It’d be a pain yelling to get his attention; he’d have to come down sometime, wouldn’t he? With a small sigh, Ian turned back to his tablet, pulling up the picture of the washed-out kid with the blank stare and dull skin: the kid on the bleachers. NEIL DIDSCHUS ULTIMATE ??? Upon reading Neil’s talent - or lack thereof - a question rose in his mind. How did the computer not know? Was it another glitch? Before any of Ian’s questions were answered, a cry rose from Corah. “What on earth is that?!” Ian jolted his head up to see what the commotion was about. Following Corah’s pointing, the red eyes made their way to the front of the gym, where a small podium was set up. Behind it, a teddy bear. Half-white, half-black, the former looking like a normal bear, the latter looking like some sort of robot. “Hello, students!” Two “...Students?” Shiori repeated, her excitable demeanor switching to a more timid one. “Is that implying you’re a teacher or something? You’re calling us your students, so I’d assume you’re in some sort of authority position…” Magdalena, yet again, switched from her soft-spoken rambling to a more clear, yet cold, voice. “What do you mean?” “I’m your headmaster, Ms. Lange!” The bear held a paw to its’ chest as it spoke. “My name’s Monokuma, and I’ll be your headmaster through this game!” “A game?” Emilia’s eyes lit up some, and a hand went to her mouth. “Yes, yes. A killing game!” “Killing?” Corah cracked her knuckles. “What makes you think that’ll ever happen here?” “I don’t think, I know!” He tapped the microphone on the podium. “I’m only going to say this once, so if you could stop dissociating for a second… I’m not going to wait, if you think you’ve got time.” At that, Neil snapped into reality, and Douglas stepped aside from Nebur for a moment to help him from the folded bleachers. Along with that, Nixe and Arthur both rose from their respective corners, joining the fringes of the group. “Can’t we just escape?” Ian couldn’t help but ask. “The door’s right there,” Gwendolyn said, pointing a thumb. “We can leave whenever we want!” “Go ahead! Try the doors!” Monokuma gestured accordingly, and Gwendolyn bolted. Indeed, the door did in fact open, and that was the last of her for a few seconds. Then, an exasperated crying out from somewhere down the hall. “The bear locked the door!” After another short moment, Gwendolyn had stormed her way back to the gym. “You’re not going to get away with this…” “You think you have any say in that?” A laugh escaped Monokuma. “You’ve already been here for years!” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Since the arrival of Monokuma, Corah’s face had turned from one strict and intimidating to stricken with sheer horror. “We just got here!” “Oh, I forgot! You forgot!” Another laugh from Monokuma cracked throughout the room. “I forgot you lost your memories!” “How’s that even possible…?” Emery, on the other hand, was in sheer disbelief. “That doesn’t matter,” the cool-toned voice of Reina argued. “We just find a way out of our predicament, of course! I’m sure something will be able to bring those memories back.” The suit-clad girl pulled a head of white hair behind her shoulders as she spoke. “Of course it matters,” Emery muttered, quieting some. “She’s right,” Monokuma interrupted their argument with. “The means don’t matter! They’re for me to know and you to lose sleep over!” Another laugh. Each time, it somehow grew even more horrifying. “Memory aside,” Nebur asked, “what are we supposed to do here?” “Kill each other, silly! I just explained that. You’re in a killing game, it’s only reasonable the objective is to kill each other!” “Why would we…” Alexander asked, eyes squeezed shut. “”You kids wanna get out of this place so badly, right?” The boy nodded. “If you want to get out, just kill someone in this room. Simple as that.” “And if we don’t…?” Ian asked the bear. “Well, our Hope’s Peak is a very lovely school, I hope you can tell.” Monokuma gestured to the doors leading to the rest of their newfound prison. “I’m sure you won’t mind staying here?” “What do you mean?” “You’ll be allowed outside once one of you kills another! Though, this school is certainly the nicest part of your new home.” “So there’s more than the school?” “Oh, yes, far more than the school. If you wish to see it, find more to your new home, you just have to spill a bit of blood.” “Seeing more of this place?” Gwendolyn asked. “That’s all we get? What if we want out?” “I was just about to get to that!” Monokuma pointed a paw to Gwendolyn, another smile spreading across his face. “You have to get away with it, if you want out!” “Get away…” Emery muttered. “We’re supposed to… get away with murder… if we want to leave?” “Excellent deduction, Mr. Lewis! But, it doesn’t take the Ultimate Analyst to figure that out, does it?” Monokuma looked around at the other kids, one eye black, the other jagged and red. “I’ve gotta have some incentive!” “Incentive? What are you talking about?” “You weren’t thinking of killing for the sake of it, were you, Ms. Aubrette? You’re gonna want a reason!” “Enough about incentives; how do we get out of here?!” “Kill someone and make it through the trial without getting caught, easy as that!” “Trial…?” For the first time, Neil spoke up. “We’re going to be put through a trial… and the killer has to…” “The killer’s job is to avoid getting figured out, yes! Good job, space boy, you managed to stay aware enough to finish a thought.” “So there’s gonna be some detective business goin’ on?” Gwendolyn cocked her head. “Exactly! You have to investigate the crime scene and find out who the killer is by debating in a class trial!” “And then what happens?” “That all depends on whether you find out who the killer is!” Monokuma’s arms spread out, and this thing seemed pretty excited to share what was next, which only scared Ian. “If you do find out who the killer is, they will be punished for disturbing the peace.” “Punished…” Emery repeated the word, staring at Monokuma in a way where Ian could almost see gears turning in the kid’s head. “You mean, like an execution?” “The Ultimate Analyst strikes again,” Monokuma said, gesturing towards the owner of that title. “I will have special punishments planned for each killer, or ‘blackened’ as we will call them ‘round here.” “And if we don’t?” Nebur cocked her head, furrowing her brow. “That brings us back to the incentive, escaping! The killer, as a reward for their skill, will graduate from Hope’s Peak and get to leave to the outside world. Though, in place of your own, everyone else will suffer punishment for failing to catch you! Hope the guilt of killing all your classmates is worth the escape!” And at that, the bear disappeared. A mortified silence fell upon the room, an atmosphere that would raise hairs on the necks of even the most stoic. The students, the targets, gave each other a series of wary glances. Glances to their future killers, their future victims, their future fellow survivors. The friends they would make, the friends they would see killed, the traitors they would sentence to death. No one said a word, no one moved a muscle, and the moment only continued, and continued, and continued for what would seem an eternity. Finally, a single voice broke the silence. “That thing won’t get away with this,” Corah muttered, fists clenched at her sides, anger and determination leaking through her face now. It seemed all the others were waiting for that moment to end, but were scared into prolonging the silence, as torturous as it was. “He will,” Nixe said. Despite the distress and despair in everyone else, Nixe was stone-cold and oddly calm. “Killings are inevitable when people are in this state. Even I know that.” “But we can… but we can fight back, right?” Shiori suggested. “Just… promise to not kill each other?” “Excellent idea,” Corah exclaimed. “A vow of pacifism!” She put her hands behind her back, stepping over to Nixe. She eyed his open notebook, only to have him pull it closer to his chest. “What do you want?” he muttered. “Sheet of paper, please? And a pencil, if you have one.” The drum major moved one of her arms, holding an extended hand out at the ready. A sigh escaped the boy, but he ripped some random sheet from the back of the book and pulled a ballpoint pen from the pocket of his hoodie. She thanked the cultist as she pivoted on her feet, clad in shiny, new-looking marching shoes, and then stepped to the bleachers. Upon setting the paper on the bleacher, she waved a hand, beckoning over the others of the group. Sure enough, Ian and the others trickled over there at her gesture. “What are-” “A contract,” she announced, interrupting the basketball player. “By signing this paper, you make a promise of pacifism to everyone!” “Paci... fism?” Emilia muttered the word under her breath, piping down for the first time since they arrived. As she thought, she tugged at the neck strap to the smock that covered her clothes. “Don’t kill anyone,” Emery said to the artist. “In layman’s terms.” “Oh, okay!” She stopped tugging at her smock and lit up again. “Yeah, that should work great!” She grabbed the pen from Corah’s hands, signing it with an over-the-top flourish. “I didn’t even finish writing the contract,” Corah muttered, though it was practically a normal speaking volume with her voice. She had Emilia give the pen back, then went back to writing a bit more. Once she was finished, she signed her name beneath Emilia’s and handed the pen off. Ian was then met with a red ballpoint pen a few inches from his nose, pointing at him. After a second of hesitance, he grabbed it, and signed the paper, continuing the trend of passing around the pen at random. Eventually, only one name wasn’t on the contract: Phantom’s. He didn’t even seem to be there, even during all the panic from earlier. “Mr. Regiment?” Corah asked, saluting to the boy. “Mr. Regiment, I ask that you sign this pacifism contract?” And, finally, the equestrian spoke up. “Why?” “To maintain our trust, of course,” Emery said. “Why do I have to sign the paper, though?” “‘Cause people sure love going back on their word,” Gwendolyn said. “The others’re needing somethin’ to force themselves into keeping it.” Phantom finally looked up from his tablet, stuffing it into his pocket, and accepted the pen. Despite the contract, he gave wary glances to the others, as if he expected the contract to not end up meaning anything. CONTRACT OF PACIFISM We students of Hope’s Peak Academy promise to maintain a code of pacifism, not hurting or killing one another throughout our time here. We refuse to participate in the Killing Game and succumb to Monokuma’s goals, no matter the cost. If the promise is to be broken by one of our classmates, violence will be accepted, for purposes of apprehension only. Emilia Garelli Corah Crown Ian Estcott Nebur Neva Emery Lewis Douglas Gormley Jessica Aubrette Reina Belmonte Magdalena Lange Arthur Jones Alexander McBride Shiori Sakamoto Nixe Mistry Neil Didschus Phantom Regiment Once Phantom was finished, he set the pen onto the paper, and Corah went to collect both. “Everyone’s accounted for,” she muttered, eyes scanning the list of names. “Perfect! And we shall keep this in the open to ensure anyone who thinks of… breaking the contract… will be reminded!” “I can try building a frame,” Emilia offered. “We don’t need-” Corah was interrupted by the gym doors swinging open, then closed. What followed was a short couple seconds of silence. “Well, what now?” Jessica asked. “We still need’ta check out the rest of this place,” Gwendolyn offered. “The place is rather large,” Emery said. “Plenty of rooms dedicated to developing various talents. I say we split up and do some exploring.” “Ooh, talent specific rooms?” Shiori’s face lit up at some. “D’you think they’ve got a greenhouse?” “I would bet on it,” he said. “An auditorium would be nice, it would be really comforting to see a stage again throughout all this. It would also make my performance to you guys a lot nicer, if we’re still doing that….” The brown eyes turned blank again and her smile faded. “I’m excited to see what we can find.” She then turned for the door herself, with Arthur following close by, guitar now in a case on his back. Slowly, more and more students started to file out of the room, some in search of a possible exit, some excited over the talent-based rooms, some just wanting to get out. Ian, for one, was part of the final group. He didn’t want to leave the room, though. Who knows what could be out there? He fell into thought; surely this was how Neil felt. It was kind of nice, actually, Ian could see the appeal. A tap on his shoulder snapped Ian out of it. Category:Blog posts